


Just Falling

by TerminallySingle



Series: Sentiment [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: I Don't Even Know, I'm Crazy. Aren't I?, M/M, What Was I Thinking?, What the actual fuck, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 01:03:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerminallySingle/pseuds/TerminallySingle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Falling. Falling. And falling again.  When will it stop?"<br/>In which Loki cannot get out of his downward spiral.  Add his lovestruck brother, the avengers, some curly- haired lookalike of his, a crazy ass thanos, and you're in for a bumpy ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Falling

Just Falling

 

I found myself dangling amongst the heavens beneath the Bifrost. I could feel my brother’s strong grip even from the other end of the staff from which I clung to life. He would never let me go.

 

That mighty grasp. I must admit, I do admire my brother’s undeniable gift; his inescapable grip. Many times have those hands held so fiercely onto a weapon in combat and been the end for many a warrior. That grip. That pair of hands. They can hold on to anything that he ever had. They could have saved anyone that he ever loved. Gotten for him anything he ever could have wanted. Those hands alone are worthy of holding his deadly hammer.

 

My brother is defined by his hands. His hands are his essence. Anything that he ever was, are in those hands. He’s strong. So are they. They’re strong enough to hold on to anything; make sure that nothing ever gets away from him, ever. Not his family. Not his identity. Not his crown or his hammer. And much less the staff that is in his hands right now.

 

His hands are just as large as they are strong; so large and so powerful. Maybe they are too large; for I remember a time, not too long ago, when they too greatly resembled the hands of Odin himself. Odin’s hands too are large and strong. They too can get anything that their master desired. They too can hold on forever. They too can be greedy without end or appease.  
And with Odin’s teachings, my brother, my best friend, grew corrupt. The one thing that he¬¬¬¬ craved was warfare. They craved power. They craved things that they were not worthy of receiving. He is worthy now though. I have no doubt in my heart of that. He is a king today. Now and forever; my brother: the king of Asgard.

 

I wish he didn’t have to go down this winding spiral of insanity to get it though. He would have made a great king years ago. Then he was unmade. He was thrown out into the cold. And then he had to remake himself from there.

 

He is the greatest king that Asgard has ever seen and will probably ever see again. A king born, murdered, and then reincarnated; the king has returned. I can see it in his eyes. Those silvery blue moons that speak to me with words that I cannot ignore, it is a voice I have heard for as long as I have lived. A voice that I can never forget; it is the voice of my brother, Thor.

 

With one gaze, I can see into years ago. What seems like another life has reopened to me for one last glimpse.

 

We were only children back then. Yet we both remember it well. As though it were yesterday; with one glimpse I hear him say to me, “Remember when you used to crawl into my bed because of the nightmares? You always said it was the same thing. Falling. But you said it wasn’t like there was anything to land on. Just falling. I didn’t understand; but you shook like a leaf. You said it wasn’t just the falling. It was the sinking feeling of losing everything. Me. Father. Mother. You were ready to cry whenever you had those nightmares. So I let you sleep with me, under the moonlight, holding my hand. Your eyes were wide and glossy, looking for something. I didn’t think I’ve ever seen you so scared in my life. But I grinned to make you feel better and said ‘If you feel like you’re falling, just squeeze back. I’ll be here. I’ll always be here brother.’ And you’d fall right to sleep. Now it is I that has nightmares. Not of falling. But of letting you go.”

 

I smile. I remember that.

 

I was scared of the fall back then. Not anymore. I have already lost everything. Now the fall into the abyss calls to me. Her embrace is an old companion now.  
I can feel the tears as they come towards me. They try to claw their way out and rest upon my cheek as the memories flood my heart.  
What have I done?

 

I don’t look at my hands. I have seen them enough. They look like good, strong hands. Yet they are anything but those things. They are weak, yet crafty terrible weavers of dark shadowy plots. I know them all too well.

 

I know myself too well to allow myself to hold on. I know that I will just conspire again. I will fall again to the deception of jealousy. I know it. I can’t let him save me. He would be better off without me. It is better to be hated for who you are, than loved for who you are not. And Thor will never believe that I am as terrible as I know myself to be.

 

I am sorry brother.

 

And so I let go.

 

I’m falling.

 

I close my eyes so I don’t have to watch my brother slip away from my view as I fade into the darkness. The tear falls from my cheek only to turn upward and abandon me in my last moments. My life doesn’t flash before my eyes; instead, all I can see are memories of my brother and me.  
A warm within my soul is ignited and I feel at peace knowing that all will be well. I have saved him from the monster that lurked in his shadows for years. I am the monster. And I am the savior.

 

Again I thought of that night. When we were truly brothers, and when he promised me that he would always be there for me. I was merely repaying him the favor.  
I was lost among my long forgotten memories. I was dreaming until the certain end.  
Or at least, I thought it was the end.  
 

**Author's Note:**

> a word of caution:  
> it shall be a very long and winding road, if you so choose to stick around, so take my hand and don't let go- lest you be left lost and alone with no way home.  
> monsters are meant to be feared and hated- shunned and hunted. for their heads to be mounted on the walls and tales of their death to be told. but what happens when a monster's hand is the one you long to hold? when you fall for a nightmare- does the light ever find you again?


End file.
